


Under a Bridge Somewhere

by starlightwalking



Category: Lockwood & Co. - Jonathan Stroud
Genre: Gen, Platonic Relationships, The Empty Grave Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: George finds Flo in a typical place for her. Well, she finds him.





	Under a Bridge Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted some closure for these two, but I'm not a fan of them in a romantic relationship, so I took my own little spin on. Everything in Stroud's works is just implied, anyway.  
> Also geez I've been writing a lot of L&C fic these past couple days

George picked his way along the banks of the Thames. He rarely went here, especially during the day, but this is where he knew he could find Florence Bonnard.

The river was not a pretty one, but it was even uglier in broad daylight. At night, when even the sluggish flow of the Thames provided a sense of security against Visitors, it seemed almost comforting. Now, George was unimpressed. Still, it wasn't as if he put much stock in appearances, especially when the river, as a source of running water, was inherently useful. Practicality over prettiness—which was something annoying about Holly Munro.

Flo Bones, on the other hand, felt much the same way as him. Though  _smell_  was another matter entirely.

"Hey, Cubbins."

George whirled around, his hand grasping the hilt of his rapier instinctively.

But even as he turned, he was already relaxing. It was just like Flo to sneak up on him like that.

She grinned at him with yellowing teeth. "Startle ya, did I?"

"Barely," he said nonchalantly.

"Alright, what do you want this time?" Flo asked, getting right to the point. "I feel like ole Locky owes me more licorice than you all can afford at this point, but I might just help you out of the goodness of my shriveled little heart. Lord knows why."

George cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm not here on behalf of Lockwood and Co."

Flo narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Then what is it, Cubbins?"

George frowned. "Well, I thought  _you'd_  know. After Fittes House—"

"Ohhh," Flo said. She rolled her eyes. "Well, we all do things we...regret. Or don't regret. And I really don't think you need to hold a grudge about me stealing your chips—"

"What?" he said blankly.

"Oh. That's not what you're talking about."

"You stole my chips?" he demanded. "After everything we went through, and I was  _so_  hungry—"

"Oh, shut it, you were too tired to eat them anyway," Flo grumbled. "So why  _is_  it you're here, if not that?"

George huffed. He'd hoped Flo would bring it up, so he wouldn't have to.

"Well—it's just, you were at Portland Row for so long after I...was hurt," he said, not meeting her eyes. He touched his forehead, trying not to think too hard about his close call. "And then you got Barnes for us, and well, basically you saved my life. A lot."

Flo grunted. "Yeah, don't mention it. I don't need your thanks. You're alive, whatever."

"That's not—" He broke off, frustrated. Why did this have to be so goddamn  _hard_? He was uncomfortable enough with it as as it was, but  _talking_  to Flo about this was even worse.

"I was just...why? Why did you do it, Flo?" he asked at last. "I mean—licorice aside, I know you don't dislike Lockwood and Co. You've certainly helped us out a lot in the past. But why come sit by my bedside?"

Flo glared at him. "If I'da known  _this_  was what you wanted to talk about I wouldn'ta bothered to meet you here, Cubbins."

"Is it..." George made a face. "Are you in love with me or something, Flo?"

She stared at him for an uncomfortably long period of time, and George's heart sank. He didn't feel that way about anyone, really, and definitely not her.

But then Florence Bonnard laughed. It was a raucous, almost inhuman sound, and he was so caught off guard by the outburst that he stumbled back a few steps.

"Love?" Flo wheezed between guffaws. "Nah. George—Lord, I hope that's not a rumor going around! My reputation's bad enough as it is."

"No, it's no rumor, I just—" George scowled. "I mean, I'm glad that's not it. I don't like you that way, anyway."

"Then how  _do_  you like me, Cubbins?" she demanded, getting all up in his face. Her breath stank, and George flinched away.

"You're a f-friend," he stuttered. "How else?"

"Mmmm." Flo spun around and began to walk away. "Well, it's nice to get that cleared up. I suppose. See you around, Cubbins."

"Wait!" he hollered, still confused. "Don't you want your licorice?"

"I don't take payment from  _friends_ ," she grumbled over her shoulder. " 'Specially since I only got one."


End file.
